my psycho prince - yuri on ice asylum au
by LittleMissHels
Summary: **lower case intended** when dr victor nikiforov, a famous doctor in psychiatry, is assigned a new patient, he did not expect the dysfunctional and erotic katsuki yuuri, who was known for being a down-right psychopath. as victor delves deeper into curing his new patient, he finds it harder to make the right choices and finds that he too, is slowly losing his sanity.
1. prologue - psychopathy

prologue - psychopathy

 **the hasetsu psychiatric institution, est. 1969**

 **personal record number:** 00738

 **registration number:** 291

 **full name:** katsuki yuuri

 **d.o.b:** 29th november, 1992

 **origin:** hasetsu, kyushu, japan (citizen, permanent resident)

 **gender:** male

 **nationality:** japanese

 **present residence:** the hasetsu psychiatric institution - block a, cell 5b

 **previous residence (before diagnosis):** (insert address)

 **date of transferral:** 4th october, 2008

 **current psychiatrist number:** 042679 - minako okukawa

 **diagnosis**

schizophrenia, split personality disorder, avoidant personality disorder, clinical depression

 **threat level:** 7

 **age of diagnosis:** 16

 **observations**

\- frequent personality switches, although is more keen on his erotic side out of the two

\- claims he can hear voices, sometimes talks to them

\- occasional detachment from reality

\- is suicidal and have attempted self-harm before being admitted to present residence

\- has attempted killing others before transferral; has not yet succeeded

\- depressing thoughts; alternating with erotic behaviour in 2nd personality

\- susceptible to panic attacks when in milder state

 **treatment**

\- sedatives (three times daily) - ongoing

\- daily sessions with psychiatrist

\- straightjacket needed if necessary: reason - suicidal and attempts occasional self-harm

\- reinforced iron bars around room and on windows to avoid escape

 **additional notes**

\- 24 hour surveillance necessary

\- high risk patient

 **new psychiatrist registered:** 096746 - victor nikiforov


	2. I - atelophobia

chapter one - atelophobia (fear of imperfection)

it wasn't like he hadn't been in an asylum before - he was a freaking psychiatrist, but something about this certain building had been off-putting towards him from the moment he walked in. it simply wasn't right.

but really, he couldn't expect much out of an asylum. everyone here wasn't right, including the doctors. it was like the madness and irrationality exuding from the patients were getting to their heads as well. the patients _definitely_ weren't right; if they were, they wouldn't be in an asylum now, would they?

victor stared at his white uniform and the new name badge and ID that had been pinned to the breast pocket of his jacket a few hours ago, when he signed in for the first time at the institution. the receptionist, who had handed him his pass, his new id and his name badge, had ogled at him, as everyone else who had even met him in their life did before. having the famous dr victor nikiforov, the most well-known psychiatrist in the world, standing in front of you would be strange. he was basically a celebrity in the medical world. even people who didn't study medicine knew who he was and what he does. if victor wasn't victor himself, he would have been slightly amazed at his own presence. victor sighed through his nose. there he goes again, not making sense anymore. the lack of sleep that he was getting from his late phone call with yakov was really going to get to him. he didn't even read the file for his new patient. _some_ psychiatrist he was.

sterile white lights from the bulbs above danced across his skin and his silver hair, which partially flopped over his left cerulean eye. it also danced on the flawless white material of his jacket. victor scoffed to himself as he walked towards the waiting room, his usually smiling face pressed into a little scowl, something that he noticed was present on his face a lot more the deeper he sank into his career.

he just hated how white and pure and clean everything seemed, from the white coats, to the bright white lights, to the clean walls and floors to the cleaned faces of the psychopathic patients. it was like a glamour, a _façade_ , that covered up the terrible things that went on inside the walls and the crazy irrational things that happened inside the patients' minds. it was so _fake_ , and victor despised that with a passion.

in fact, the things that happened inside the asylums perfectly fit the usual cliché descriptions that some others chose to see instead of the sterile 'safe-haven' for the mentally ill, in victor's opinion. those tales described bloody walls, vomit covered floors and thin blankets and dim lights with rats hiding under the floorboards. even if it was an outlandish description, it was still closer to the truth than the stoic, white and perfect hospital. the things that happened within the walls were vile, buried under miles of perfect white and bleach. he learnt that with years of spending his time within different sets of white walls, varying from hospital to hospital as he treated hundreds of patients.

victor kept the scowl on his face as he sat down on a chair when he arrived in the small waiting room, the lights piercing his vision. to distract himself from the contracting feeling in his stomach and the nausea from his thumping head, he pulled out his phone and scrolled aimlessly through his instagram feed before quitting and staring at the home screen background of his phone. it depicted a selfie that he and another friend of his, dr christophe giacometti from switzerland, at a skating rink, standing on the ice. ice skating was only a hobby of his, however, but if he wasn't a psychiatrist, he would have been a professional figure skater. he skipped to his gmail app and opened the email that he had received from his employer, dr yakov feltsman, detailing his new assignment in hasetsu, a town in kyushu, japan, notoriously known for its rates of schizophrenia and insanity in its residents. he was to especially meet someone, who was rather well-known in the world of psychiatry, not because of his brilliance in treating his patients, but because he was a patient that simply cannot be cured.

katsuki yuuri, whom the doctors at the institute had nicknamed 'eros' with his charming looks and erotic personality, had been admitted to the hasetsu psychiatric institution when he was 16 years old. eight years and there was no improvement at all; in fact, they stated that his condition had worsened over the years as he matured into adulthood. all the past psychiatrists that had treated him previously have all bailed on him, given up on him within the first 24 hours, claimed that his condition was incurable - but all except one, a woman named minako okukawa, who is his current psychiatrist and supervisor, but she is soon to retire. yakov's hospital had eventually been notified of this, and, naturally, he sent victor for the job.

"dr nikiforov?" a female voice asked to his right.

victor looked up, his cerulean eyes tired and put a hand to his forehead. the pretty woman that stood in front of him had to be around ten years his senior, but still looked young as ever. her stringy brown hair was tied back off of her face in a loose bun and her black eyes seemed to reflect a tired energy, like all the life had been drained out of her. her name tag pinned on the breast pocket of her white jacket read 'minako okukawa', the black text having faded away. an old employee, no doubt.

 _so, this is katsuki yuuri's current psychiatrist. interesting._

"yes, that's me." victor said, standing up, dwarfing the petite japanese woman with his height. "victor nikiforov, a pleasure to meet you, dr okukawa."

victor could have swore the woman blushed slightly under his cerulean gaze and the sterile white lights, but it was rather hard to tell because of the light on her high cheekbones. "just minako will be fine." she said rather curtly, covering up the shadow of red that crossed her face. "mr katsuki is this way, dr nikiforov."

"just victor will be fine." victor said, smiling slightly, his mouth curving up into a smirk as he met the woman's gaze. minako's mouth twitched upwards, just slightly, after withdrawing into a separate corridor, without acknowledging victor that much. following close behind, victor had noticed how tensely the woman walked and her speed, despite her tall heels. her bun bounced as she walked, so victor focused on the back of her head, instead of the myriad of the hallways that they passed through. a nagging thought in the back of his head had chastised him, whining how he would forget where his new patient's room is.

the deeper they went, the more victor got lost and his vision started to dilate. his head was thumping and his eyesight was fading. minako didn't look back as she continued walking forward, without even sparing a glance at the other doors that they passed. victor looked around, grimacing at the groaning and the screams that seeped through the doors.

"please, end this... please-" which broke off into a sudden and agonised scream.

"stars, pretty stars. so pretty. i want to join them..." which resulted in mad laughter.

minako finally stopped at a plain door with the gold printed words 'a, cell 5b', which seemed to have no difference with the others, except a rectangular bulge on the door and the eerie silence from inside the room. minako, glancing sideways at victor, opened the hatch and scanned her handprint on the hidden scanner on the door. she shoved the door open with one high-heeled shoe and ushered victor inside. to his surprise, victor was greeted with iron bars that cut across a large room, like prison bars, almost. it was like they were trying to keep something dangerous inside. victor tensed.

"minako-sensei..." a voice flew across the room as soon as minako closed the door behind victor.

victor looked around, alarmed, but saw no one on the floor or on the cot or by the chair and table in the centre of the room. a sound of mad giggling came from above. lifting his cerulean eyes to the light-filled ceiling, he saw a handsome japanese man, draping himself on a white hammock, a few meters above the ground, almost looking as if he was about to fall off, but his face suggested that he wouldn't care any less.

his raven hair was combed back and his caramel eyes shone with a maniacal light. an erotic and perfect smile danced across his lips as he swung backwards and forwards, giggling, on the hammock above. minako's face remained neutral, but victor could see a sad light behind her black eyes as she looked up at the handsome man.

"good evening, yuuri." minako said, retrieving a key from her breast pocket and unlocking the iron bars to allow herself and victor through. "you have a new visitor."

the man, yuuri, teased a smile across his face. "oh, really?" he laughed, the sound velvety and filling the entire room. "is he going to be another one that asks me stupid questions, sticks needles into me and leaves me alone the next day?"

victor tensed, but plastered a trained smile on his face, which seemed to win over most of the his patients, no matter male or female. he knew that he was handsome; he was the type to flaunt it, and he had named most attractive bachelor in europe for three years in a row before. yakov had also instructed him to used his good looks as a sort of a treatment when talking to a patient. "i'm victor nikiforov, and i am your new psychiatrist. i'm going to help you, yuuri."

yuuri simply laughed again and flipped on his hammock, hanging upside-down to put his face level with victor's. victor could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he stared at the face of the handsome japanese man in front of him. with a slender and slightly muscular arm, he brushed a hand coyly across victor's cheeks and smiled, the smile hitting victor so innocently that he almost forgot where he was and who the smile belonged to. he couldn't even breathe. a darker blush found its way onto his cheeks.

"minako-sensei, he's _so_ adorable." yuuri cooed, his caramel eyes melting into victor's cerulean blue ones. "is he allowed to do anything else besides being my psychiatrist?"

the man swung back and curled himself around the white cloth of the hammock once more, his long and muscular legs curving around the cloth. he allowed himself to chuckle softly, the sound sending uncomfortable shivers down victor's back.

"now, now, yuuri." minako whispered, softly, but just loud enough so that the man that swung in the hammock above could hear her. "he's just here to help you. once you're cured, you can get to know him better. you just have to be cooperative. dr nikiforov knows what's best."

yuuri chuckled again, his eyes dancing with a psychopathic light behind them. "of course, minako-sensei." he purred, giving victor another once-over, leering with his erotic smile at him and casting a wink that made victor's heart give itself a little squeeze.

minako looked at yuuri again, with that same pitying gaze and exited the barred section of the room, leaving victor secluded with yuuri. "dr nikiforov, i'll see you at the end of the shift, in two hours. keep an eye on the time." silently she slipped the key into victor's hand and gave him a warning look. "keep that safe, will you?"

with a last wistful look behind her shoulder at yuuri, draped on the hammock on the ceiling, she left and shut the external door with finality, leaving victor with the psychopathic man hanging above him.

victor, with all his trained professional look, walked over to the table at the centre of the room and swallowed the bitter bile that rose at the back of his throat. he glanced at yuuri, who was looking at him with interest in his caramel eyes. the insane light was still there, however, and it seemed to set the caramel in his eyes on fire.

"yuuri, why don't you come down here and sit?" victor asked, trying not to let his nervousness show through his facial expression and his voice. he sighed internally in relief when his voice sounded smooth and even.

yuuri smiled, casting a bold look straight in victor's eyes. "i'm fine up here."

victor shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "that's alright then. i'll just ask you a few questions, alright?"

yuuri laughed, the maniacal laughter spreading through the whole room. he cackled some more and flipped a few more times on his hammock. he ran a hand through his brushed back hair and bent down to retrieve something blue that was folded within the folds of the white cloth. he picked up a pair of half-rimmed blue glasses and spun it around on his pale and slender fingers. after spinning a few rotations, he balanced it on the tip of his nose and peeked down at victor through his long eyelashes. "you don't need my permission." he said, cocking his head to the side, with an almost cat-like gleam in his caramel eyes. "you were about to ask anyway without me caring in the first place."

victor cleared this throat. "anyway-"

yuuri's voice cut cleanly across victor's. "blah blah blah." he grinned, flashing pearly whites and twirling his glasses on his fingers again. "i don't really care either way. and by the way, did you always look this cute? i thought you were going to another boring old man."

"w-what?" victor stammered, his voice uneven from shock. he had never expected this katsuki yuuri to respond like this to his conversations. usually, for most cases that he had encountered in russia, they were either mainly unresponsive, or could only form non-sensical words or fragmented sentences at a time.

yuuri laughed again, mussing up his hair as he swung closer to victor. victor could see the mad light clearly in the other man's caramel eyes right in front of him. "dr nikiforov, _victor_..." he said his name like a caress, something gentle and it rolled off his tongue nicely. "you're cute, i like you already."

"you're insane." victor mumbled as his blue eyes danced towards yuuri's lips.

yuuri ran a hand through victor's silver hair, resting on his hairline, which was thinning slightly; a trait that victor was definitely not that proud of. but that was inevitable, with all the stress in victor's current 27 years of life. victor looked up to see a coy smile on the japanese man's lips as he spoke and the mad light dancing like wildfire behind his eyes. it never seemed to extinguish.

"all the best people are, darling."


	3. II - anthropophobia

chapter two - anthropophobia (fear of people and/or society)

a bead of sweat rolled down the back of victor's neck and disappeared under the neatly folded white collar of his jacket. he showed up for his usual shift - 6pm to 8pm with katsuki yuuri again - with butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. the younger man's erotic behaviour last night came unexpected, but he shouldn't expect much else. the psychopath wasn't nicknamed 'eros' for nothing.

he had left the comforts of the room of the inn that he was currently living in in hasetsu, in a small hot springs resort named yuu-topia akatsuki, after thoroughly reading through the file that the institute had emailed to him. the meeting that he had with the other psychiatrists in the afternoon had certainly drained him. it was just another meeting, much like the ones that he had sat through a thousand times before, without really paying that much attention. he tended to zone out whenever something was boring him. he ran through the diagnosis and the treatments through his head.

 _katsuki yuuri... schizophrenia, split personality disorder, avoidant personality disorder, clinical depression... curious._

so far, victor had only come to witness one personality that katsuki attained, and he was rather apprehensive about his second one. in his erotic personality, yuuri was rather bold and very flirtatious. during the last session, he had flirted with victor for the full two hours, only having changed slightly in demeanour near the end of the session, becoming somewhat milder. at least he hadn't made any moves on victor yet.

pulling his collar higher up his neck, he put his hands in his pocket. without a sound, he made his way towards the front desk, the light bouncing off his silver hair, to collect some of his files. he stopped in front of the high white desk and waited patiently for the receptionist to finish her call. she beamed up at him though, with straight pearly white teeth, but with one charmingly crooked and raven eyes glowing expectantly as she eyed him.

"yes, _of course_ , mrs katsuki. i will communicate the message to his psychiatrist soon." she paused, with the fixed smile on her face as she listened to the warbling voice coming out from the end of the black telephone. "mm... yes, hm? oh, visiting hours are still not open for him, i'm afraid."

victor could hear the tone at the other end of the phone growing louder and louder and growing more agitated. he knew that whoever was on the other end was really starting to become desperate.

"i'm sorry, _who_ is his psychiatrist?" the receptionist giggled after she repeated the woman on the other end's question. her laugh seemed knowing and she cast a wink towards victor's direction as she did so. her raven eyes fell, however, when he continued staring determinedly ahead. "dr _victor nikiforov_ is his new psychiatrist, madam. he's the one from russia."

more warbled sounds came from the other end. victor could almost make out some of the words, but he decided not to. eavesdropping was still something that he found rude, after all. he stood, looking down at his shoes, and waiting for the woman to finish her call. he tapped a quick rhythm with his right foot as he stood, waiting for the receptionist. he flicked his wrist with a brisk motion, so he could see what the time displayed on his watch read. 5:46pm. 14 minutes until his session began.

"good evening, dr nikiforov." an almost flirtatious voice said in front of him. victor looked up, meeting the raven gaze of the receptionist. "is there something that i can do for you?" she winked suggestively.

"my files, please." he said simply, looking slightly to the side, to show her that he was not in the mood for socialising and simply wasn't interested. he could see from his peripheral vision that she seemed rather upset about this and went to retrieve his files from a compartment in her desk.

"dr nikiforov, a lady, hiroko katsuki, rung me just then." she said, matter-of-factly, gazing at him shyly through her eyelashes. "she wanted to know more about you, being her son's psychiatrist and all."

victor raised a silver eyebrow as he took his file from her manicured hand. _hiroko katsuki_ , was it just a coincidence, or was that the last name of yuuri and the female owner of the inn that he was staying in? "really? curious." he muttered. he was just about to continue when a black and yellow blur quickly shoved him to the side.

"move, you old geezer." a rather deep voice growled under him, the owner of the voice obviously displeased and green-blue eyes staring disdainfully at the silver haired man. victor shook his hair out of his eyes and his cerulean eyes took in the short but slender figure that took his spot. the young teenage boy, with blonde hair covering the right side of his face and bangs hanging across his ocean eyes, tucked one of his hands into the pockets of his cat print jacket. before he did so, he readjusted the black earbuds under his large black hood. he turned to the receptionist and glared.

"where's my grandfather?" he demanded, banging both hands on the desk. the receptionist stared back, her jaw hanging open.

"ex-excuse me?" she stuttered, running a hand exasperatedly through her long brown hair.

"i said, you deaf bitch, i want to know where my grandfather is." he elongated every syllable, talking to the receptionist as if she was a five-year-old, and accompanied his antics with a sarcastic eyeroll.

"w-what's his name?" the receptionist asked, recovering slightly and turning to her computer."

"nikolai plisetsky. he transfered a week ago to this stupid excuse of an asylum, cost me a _shit_ ton to get here from moscow." the petite blonde picked at his cuticles, but his head darted up so he could meet his gaze with victor's. "oi, you have a problem or something, you asshole?" he dead-panned.

"that's not a nice thing to say." victor replied, smirking slightly.

the teenager just rolled his eyes in reply. "yeah? well, i'm not five anymore. i couldn't care less whether it's nice or not, dumbass. let me say it again, _what's your problem_?"

that was when victor noticed the sad light behind those ocean eyes of the boy. his grandfather, nikolai plisetsky, must have been someone really important to this boy, otherwise, the blonde wouldn't have travelled from moscow to hasetsu for him. the tough façade must be just a cover, to shield himself from the pain that he is feeling inside and to hide his internal trauma from others. must be someone with a strong will to not let anyone else down, then. at that moment, he genuinely felt sorry for the boy.

victor could relate, since his father had died of a heart attack, a few months after he was admitted into the st petersburg mental institute - yakov's hospital and where victor was previously working - because of severe schizophrenia. victor was only 8 years old when he passed on. his mother died around 10 years later, because of her lung cancer, leaving victor alone int he world, with no family connections left that he knows of. his father was the reason he wanted to take up a career in psychiatry; he wanted to make sure that no one else would die of their condition, like his father did. the madness had consumed the man and somehow gotten to his heart.

victor allowed a small smile onto his face. "your grandfather is nikolai plisetsky?" he asked, with a small lilt in his voice, trying to sound positive.

tears in the teenager's eyes started to well up, even though he scowled even more and hid his face to hide his sign of weakness. "yeah? what about it, you old geezer?" victor's heart ached in sympathy when he heard the small teenager's voice start to tremble.

"i'm a psychiatrist that works here. i could get you in to see your grandfather, if you want."

the blonde's eyes lit up immediately and ran towards him, leaping up to grab victor's collar and pulling him down to his height. "where is he? where's my grandfather?"

victor smiled and took the boy's hands off his collar. "come with me, then. let's be quick. i have an appointment soon."

the boy, seemingly to have remembered where he was and remembered the receptionist being there, along with a few other visitors at the front desk, nodded rather briskly. "whatever, old man. take me to him."

victor smiled and gestured towards a door towards block a, where he thought that nikolai plisetsky is. he swore that he saw the name 'nikolai plisetsky' printed on one of the files nearby katsuki yuuri's door in the same block. "come on then. i'll take you to your grandfather. but first off, what's your name?"

he looked down kindly at the small blonde, only to met with a gaze with rock-hard determination and grief welling up behind the ocean eyes. "call me yuri plisetsky."

after dropping yuri off at his grandfather's room, leaving the boy to have his own private moments with his grandfather, he rushed down the hallway and came upon the familiar door with the rectangular hand print scanner. checking that the key to opening the iron bars inside the room was still safe within his breast pocket, he pressed his handprint onto the scanner, hearing a beep from the machine within the door. he pushed the door open gently, but just loud enough for yuuri to hear his arrival.

taking out the key and sliding it through the lock and twisting it, he sighed and kept his voice neutral. "i apologise for being late for being late for your session, yuuri. i had some important things to deal with first." but, he was greeted with silence. no flirtatious and erotic reply or the crazed chuckled sounded in reply, just a small snuffling noise by the corner of the room by the small cot. "yuuri?" victor called out, tentative. this could be the second personality of his patient that he had never taken to knowing, so he was exploring unmapped waters here.

he gently eased the files in his hand onto the table at the center of the room and walked towards the direction the sniffing was coming from.

"yuuri? mr katsuki?" he called, his voice slightly hushed and walking very slowly as to not alarm the younger man. "where are you?"

as he rounded the corner of the cot, he saw the same erotic psychopath, wearing the same clothes as he did the day before, the rather figure-accentuating black shirt and pants, curled up into a tiny ball, his raven hair now messy and hanging across his face. a pair of blue glasses were precariously balanced on the tip of his nose. there were visible streaks of tears down his face. victor wanted to comfort him, to hug him, to tell him everything was alright. but he can't. yuuri's a psychopath, and they are the most unstable humans that walk this earth; they can switch from mild and peaceful to aggressive and suicidal in a split second and their views of reality are so altered, they don't even what is real anymore.

"yuuri?"

the japanese man swivelled, allowing victor to see his face fully. victor stared, almost as if he was seeing the younger man for the first time. he could still see the japanese man's devilish handsomeness, but this time, his features looked much softer, complemented with messy raven hair that fell over his caramel eyes. the pair of blue spectacles looked familiar, they were the same ones that the same man's erotic personality was twirling around his fingers yesterday.

"w-who are you?" yuuri stammered, shifting away from him and jumping onto the cot, burying himself under the covers and breathing heavily, as if having a panic attack. the sniffing continued. "i-i-i don't know who you are..."

victor gingerly pulled the covers off of the japanese man trembling on the cot. "i'm your new psychiatrist, yuuri. my name is victor nikiforov and i'm here to make you better, alright?"

yuuri's caramel irises widened as his gaze latched onto victor's cerulean eyes. "where's minako-sensei then? is she here?"

victor smiled, his heart leaping at a hundred miles per hour under the other man's stare. "dr okuakawa is doing something else currently, she'll be back soon."

the younger man's eyes darkened at victor's response and pushed the russian man away. he crossed his arms, almost childishly, and giggled, even though he still had the stormy brewing in his caramel eyes. soon, he erupted into full on laughter, hysterically pointing a slender finger at victor and rocking backwards and forwards on his small cot.

"lies... lies..." he sang, and looked at victor with a sad look in his eyes, a pout with his pink lips and the paths of the tears shining clear on his soft cheeks. "all you white-coats do is lie... she's never coming back, isn't she?"

victor shook his head slightly, cerulean eyes downcast. "no... i'm sorry." the patient remained silent at this and just nodded, dragging himself off of the small cot and plopping down on a chair by the table at the centre of the room. he stared at the top of the table, his caramel eyes threatening to well over with tears.

"aren't you going to ask me any questions today?" he said, bitterness filling his trembling voice. victor's heart ached at the state of his patient. he was genuinely beginning to care for the wellbeing of the japanese man. he knew that he cares for everyone and everything, and that caring for a psychopath like this would only be for not. he would have to endure years of as the psychopath only very slowly heals. it might take another decade for someone like katsuki yuuri to regain his sanity, but at this rate, with all the non-existent work that victor was currently doing with him and the patient's diagnosis, that may as well never happen. so he walked towards the trembling japanese man at the table and grabbed him by the shoulders.

katsuki yuuri, his caramel eyes averted, turned to face him, his mouth pressed into a pout. victor would've thought the look attractive, but this was a psychopath. he might look perfect on the outside, but on the inside, he was definitely a mess.

"listen here, yuuri." he said, staring determinedly into the other man's eyes, willing him with his cerulean gaze. he waited until the japanese man looked into his blue eyes before continuing. "i'm sure that minako wouldn't want you to be like this, would she?"

yuuri slowly shook his head, causing his messy raven bangs to brush back and forth across his forehead. victor watched, mesmerised, but quickly snapped out of it. "so can you remain positive for me and your minako-sensei?" victor cupped yuuri's chin with a strong and reassuring hand. he could feel the breath in the other man hitch as he did so, a layer of pink dusting his cheeks. "i want the same thing for you as minako does, no doubt about it, yuuri."

he swore that he saw the japanese man's cheeks blush stronger. the latter's eyes sparkled as well, even though the familiar mad light was still in there. "i think i can drown looking your eyes. pools... of light." yuuri stammered. without warning, yuuri launched fowards, latching his arms around victor's neck.

"please be mine, victor!"


	4. interlude I - pandemonium

interlude one - pandemonium

yuri knew that something was wrong the moment his phone rang with the number of the moscow psychiatry institution. potya, his black and white siberian forest cat, a cherished pet and companion that his grandfather had given to him when he was 10 years old, stirred in her sleep. she flicked one of her ears irritably at the vibrations and the ringtone that erupted from the rectangular device under her stomach.

yuri lifted potya into his arms and brought the black iphone to his ear. his stomach was flipping and writhing within him. his heart was suffocating itself inside his chest and his ribs were constricting with his nerves. potya, lifting up her amber eyes to level with yuri's ocean ones, released a mewl of distress, as if questioning his owner 'are you alright?' with her gaze.

yuri tapped on the green telephone icon that displayed on the bottom right of his screen and opened his mouth. his voice came out rasping and desperate, like a man that had not drank water in days and is dying of thirst. and now, he is thirsting for the answer of the person on the other side. "h-hello?" he croaked.

"is this mr yuri plisetsky?" the cool female voice on the other end asked. yuri didn't recognise the tonality, it was different to the fake positivity of the usual receptionist who kept him updated with his grandfather's status. the voice on the other end sounded rather sorrowful, but also as if she just really wanted to end the call.

"yes, i'm yuri plisetsky." yuri choked out. his heart gave a little flip in his chest, dread seeping through every vein for the woman's next words.

"good morning, mr plisetsky, this is lilia baranovskaya, nikolai plisetsky's psychiatrist." the woman, lilia, said on the other end. yuri raised an eyebrow, even though his heart was constricting again. his ageing grandfather, nikolai plisetsky, was admitted into the moscow psychiatry institution a few months ago, diagnosed of schizophrenia. yuri had never suspected anything wrong with the older man, he always thought that his grandfather was the same as before, always loving and tender towards him and treated everyone with respect. yuri had thought he was _sane_.

but during the monthly check-ups that his grandfather had with their family doctor, dr igor vasiliech, around four months ago, nikolai was suspected of schizophrenia and submitted into the psychiatry department for a check-up. two weeks later, and he was diagnosed with severe schizophrenia and needed to be removed from his residence with yuri and moved into an anonymous treatment cell. visiting hours were only open once a fortnight as well, at the most inconvenient hours when yuri was at ballet and his figure skating lessons with his rink mates, georgi and mila. so as a result, he was only allowed to visit his grandfather only once in a while, as not to miss that much of training. yuri was thrown into the care of a foster family as well because of this, and he hated his new caretakers and their stupid, slobbering, annoying little toddlers. he hated everyone deep down to his core. damn his coach. damn georgi and mila. damn _everyone_.

"yes?" yuri answered, his voice hushed and stroking potya absentmindedly with the back of his hand. he was dreading the worst, yet hoping for the best. he wanted to hear that goddamn hag on the other end say that his grandfather was fit enough to go home, and completely sane again. he missed his grandfather. he missed him so, so much. he missed his warm hugs, the loving rufflings of his blond hair, his kind smile and his pirozhki that he would make for yuri after his grueling practices. he braced himself for pain as he waited for the woman - lilia baranovskaya -'s next words.

"i am very sorry to inform you this, mr plisetsky, but your grandfather will be transferred from our hosopital to the hasetsu psychiatric institution, in kyushu, japan. i am afraid that you might not be able to see him again until he has been cured. your last visit is available today at 7pm."

yuri wanted to die at that moment. he felt as if all of his happiness shrivelled up inside him, replaced with an angry inferno. he was furious. furious at all the stupid psychiatrists that just couldn't cure his grandfather. it was their fault. their fault that everything happened like this. he didn't want this. four months ago, he was a happy teenager that lived with a loving grandfather and was a respected prodigy in the world of ballet and junior figure skating. he couldn't care less about his academics, but that was alright. he had friends, mila and georgi, even though they were extremely annoying, and had a rather sardonic attitude, but still, he was happy. he had actually _genuinely_ loved his life. he didn't know what else he would want.

but a split second later, he was stranded, without anyone to lean on for support as his grandfather, his idol and closest confidante, the person that raised him when his parents died, was suddenly a psychopath that was deemed too unstable to stay around. and now, when everyone hears the name of yuri plisetsky, they would look down on him because of his grandfather's currently state of sanity. what a load of _bullshit_.

without answering the hag on the other side, he ended the call and screamed, with tears streaming down his ocean eyes and threw the phone with all his might at the opposite wall. to his momentary satisfaction, he heard a crack and saw the long jagged cracks across the screen, but it didn't feel as good anymore. drops of moisture landed on potya's black and white fur.

the angry inferno leaped out of his mouth and ravaged the room around him. it threw his furniture around, tore out strands of shoulder-length blonde hair from his head. it clawed at the floor and ripped all his ballet and figure skating medals and certificates, leaving them in a messy pile at the foot of his bed. his foster parents came running, along with their annoying toddlers, always slobbering and tripping everywhere. he didn't care that the children were present. he just screamed. screamed his heart out and ripped the obscenities from his vocal chords.

soon, he slammed the door, locking it with a click and jumped onto the bed, crying to himself. his tears blurred his vision. he couldn't see anymore. potya had probably leaped through the open window onto the ground a few meters below when she saw that yuri had started breaking down. but the truth is, yuri needed her now more than anything. so he ripped his grandfather's checkered shirt from a drawer by his bed, the very same one that he was wearing the day of the diagnosis and clutched it over his heart, burying his face into it and inhaling his grandfather's familiar scent of mint and tobacco. he ignored the calls and shouts from outside his bedroom door. he didn't want to deal with those assholes right now. so he cried and cried until he finally fell asleep with exhaustion and tears staining his cheeks, clutching his grandfather's shirt close to his heart. the last thing he has to the most important person to him in the world.

when he woke up, late at night, with his ocean eyes set in rock-hard determination, he grabbed his large black bag and stuffed his things within it. with his passport, his cracked up phone, a few hundred dollars that he stole from his foster parents a few days ago, and sleeping potya under his arm, he eased open the large window and dropped onto the ground below, wincing when he hit the grass hard. potya mewled in complaint. he ran out onto the street, his sneakers squeaking against the wet tarmac and hailed a taxi.

"to the sheremetyevo airport, please." he said, his face determined. he cuddled potya closer as the taxi drove off.

he didn't care about the consequences. he didn't care about his foster parents' reactions when they find that he is gone in the morning. he didn't care that he was an unaccompanied minor travelling across eurasia on his own. he was going to japan to see his grandfather.


	5. III - thanatophobia

chapter three - thanatophobia (fear of death)

the room was in messy disorder around him, the curtains hastily drawn across the large windows of his hotel suite. victor sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. his fringe flopped up and came downwards upon his left eye again, causing him to wince as the hair hit his eye hard. the bedsheets were all tangled in upon each other, shoved towards the end of the bed. the pillows were thrown all around the room, which caused victor to end up lying on his right arm. he winced as he sat up and stretched the strained muscle to regain circulation. a rough night, it seemed.

the name tag that he donned and was supposed to be pinned on the breast pocket of his jacket, was on the floor, illuminated by a phosphorescent streak of light from the curtains. the jacket itself, was crumpled in a heap by the floor, having fallen from the back of the chair where he vaguely remembered draping it over. his white shirt was nowhere to be found, but his trousers were crumpled up by the foot of the bed, with a pair of black socks.

lifting his bare legs off of his bed, which was now the equivalent of a bombsite, the man walked towards the body-length mirror at the corner of the room. dark circles were forming under his cerulean eyes and the white shirt he wore to work yesterday was still on him, which explained why he couldn't find it anywhere in the room. all of the buttons were open and the white fabric draped loosely over his shoulders. it displayed his extremely toned chest. with a grunt, victor pushed the rest of the shirt off of him and went to retrieve a new one that actually made him look like a psychiatrist, not a drunk male stripper who just came back from a bar, heavily intoxicated and knocked up. he had work to do anyway.

makkachin was still curled up in the little basket that he had by the kitchen, eyes squeezed shut and fast asleep. victor wetted his lips and smiled at the large brown poodle, hands drowning in makkachin's large brown curls. the poodle stirred slightly in his sleep, shifted his tail and continued his peaceful slumber.

"sleep well, makkachin. i'll be back before you know it." victor cooed and gave his most faithful companion a cuddle before pouring the contents of a packet of dog good into the tin bowl that makkachin owned, along with some water in separate bowl. "i don't want me to go to work either, you know that? but i have to. i hate it. i wish i could spend more time with you. i'll miss you, makkachin."

the russian man sighed through his nose and ducked his head inside the minibar fridge. nothing, except blasting cold air in his face, a half-empty milk carton, a small slab of mature cheddar and two tomatoes. he eased it shut, afraid of disturbing the large poodle that slept nearby. at least he knew that the attendants will go shopping for him later today, unless they expected them to live the rest of his life on katsudon and takeout, which, for a moment, didn't seem too bad.

his fuzzy memory led him to the files strewn across his coffee table, lying on top of each other. victor vaguely remembered dumping them unceremoniously on the coffee table and then stumbling to his room, collapsing on this bed. he was so tired yesterday, for what reason he couldn't fathom. and suprised.

katsuki yuuri, the beautiful, dangerous, unstable psychopath had surprised him for the second time, on the second day that they met. the memory of the transparent tracks of the dry tears down his cheeks was clear on victor's mind, different from all the fog in his still half-awake brain. he could remember those tears, sliding down the high cheekbones, the slender bridge of the other man's nose, collecting down at his pointed chin. a crying angel, someone who has suffered through true pain. and the way that his brown eyes glimmered with excitement as he launched himself forwards, latching his arms around victor's neck.

" _i think i can drown looking in your eyes. pools... of light._ "

and then phrase that victor was sure he would not forget for a long time, as long he was still sane. as if he had the possibility of going insane, which, being a psychiatrist, where he studied for 8 years in medical school learning about how to identify insanity and how to treat it, was slightly... insane.

" _please be mine, victor!_ "

none of this made sense anymore. just blame it on the overexcited and erratic behaviour of the patient. the man was obviously extremely excitable in his second personality, and much more fragile than his, as victor made up an affectionate little name for, his 'eros mode'. he will, of course, have to discuss this with minako, see how she had been treating yuuri for the past few years, and how well he has reacted to the treatment. the man had a million thoughts racing through his brain at that moment and rushed towards the bathroom to fix his hair. he didn't have an unruly appearance; he thought it made him look less professional. besides, being rather proud of the handsome face he was gifted with, he felt the need to flaunt it.

his hair was mostly in place as he examined himself in the mirror. picking a large brush, with a few silver strands of hair intertwined with the hard tines, he ran it through his hair, smiling at the soft texture that it left behind. his chin appeared to be clean-shaven still, so running a razor over his jaw again, he smiled in satisfaction before grimacing at his morning breath, brushing his milky white teeth until they glistened slightly under the bathroom lights when he smiled.

the pleasant ringtone, along with a recurrent vibration, came from the rectangular bulge of his phone inside his trouser pockets, a call, and one that he might like to answer. the caller was very insistent after all. he glanced up at the name on his contacts list before pressing the green phone button to accept the call.

"good morning, yakov." victor glanced at the time on the wall clock hanging on the wall. "you're awfully early today. still working i imagine?"

the older man on the other side, spouted nothing but data and sleepy grumbles that victor couldn't help but feel the urge to ignore. the old man never had anything nice to say to him since the day victor was employed and never had the tolerance for victor's rather impatient and dramatic personality. the silver-haired man sighed, but jotted down in a notepad that he found under all the files on the coffee table. and then, without a shred of respect for the younger man, yakov simply hung up, with a brisk goodbye, mumbling that lilia was calling for him. with a shake of his head, shoving the file of katsuki yuuri into the nearest bag that he saw, victor headed out into the lobby, shrugging on his white jacket on the way.

the owner of the hot springs inn that he rented a suite from, katsuki hiroko, came out to greet him warmly as usual with a big smile on her face. he had yet another week until he moved into his new apartment, which was closer to the asylum, so their host-guest relationship was going to be short-lived. nevertheless, she waved at him pleasantly as he knelt in front of a table to have his breakfast before heading out. he checked the wall clock in the dining room. half an hour left. not too bad. he could live with that.

"good morning," hiroko pressed a teapot and a cup on the table in front of victor with her small chubby hands. "how are you this morning?"

victor chuckled slightly. the woman was very formal when he came to ask for a room, but she was pleasant company. she had a short and round body shape and her brown hair was in bob. her circular-shaped glasses that were always balanced on the tip of her nose accentuated her round face. she always seemed to wear traditional japanese clothing. he had never seen the woman in _not-japanese_ clothing. something everyday, like a pair of jeans or a t-shirt, or a pair of flats of sneakers.

"very well, thank you." victor smiled, even though the truth was actually quite the opposite. "and you, mrs katsuki?"

the woman's already rosy cheeks lit up in an embarrassed blush. "so polite." she cooed at victor, grinning. "i'm fine, thank you. katsudon?"

"yes please." victor grinned back, causing the woman to look rather flustered as she hustled towards the kitchen to get the russian man's order. he had taken quite a liking to the dish known as katsudon upon his visit to japan to treat katsuki yuuri. a basic dish, easy to make and very tasty, but also extremely abundant in carbohydrates and calories.

as hiroko came back, balancing a steaming bowl of katsudon in her two small hands, she flashed her usual welcoming smile to the man. but victor noticed the little glimmer of sadness in her brown eyes. he recognised her voice, recognised her name, all of a sudden; she was the woman that called in the day before, asking about _his_ new patient, katsuki yuuri. the warm caramel eyes, he had seen on someone already, along with the slender bridge of her nose. seen it on yuuri.

"mrs katsuki?" he called out, a hand stretching out for her. the woman turned back, her brown hair flowing around her as she turned briskly.

"yes dear?" she smiled. there it was again, the glimmer of pain, the sadness in those familiar brown eyes. "is there anything that i can do for you?"

victor stood up, dwarfing her small stature in an instant. he looked at the woman's face as she slowly registered the name badge, pinned neatly on the breast pocket of his white jacket. he could see the confusion, the surprise, the small dash of hope in her eyes as she took in the kanji and the english letters that spelled out his name in bold black letters, 'victor nikiforov'.

"my name is dr victor nikiforov and i work at the hasetsu psychiatric institution. i don't mean to pry, but by any chance, is your son's name yuuri katsuki?" he asked. "i couldn't help but overhear your conversation on the phone with the receptionist, and for him being my new patient..."

hurt crossed the small woman's face as a single tear slide out of the corner of her left eye, splattering her dark blue shirt collar a splotch of darker blue, so dark it was almost black. she put a hand to her mouth, pressing her knuckle against her lips to stop the sobs from coming through.

"my son, yuuri, was sent to institution at the age of 16, after he had tried to..." the woman squeezed her eyes shut, the skin of her eyelids crinkling with the force she was shutting them. "kill himself." she managed to choke out.

victor nodded grimly and placed a hand against the woman's shoulder. the japanese woman flinched against his sudden touch and suddenly exhaled sharply with a sob erupting form her lips.

"he had been a normal boy, no problems with school on his friends, nothing like that. he was supposed to have a good life, a normal life, none of any of this."

the woman suddenly swivelled around, latching her hands firmly onto victor's shoulders. all the fragility that he had seen a moment ago was gone, replaced with hope and determination in those caramel eyes. it reminded him of yuuri's strong arms around his neck, the wild mad light in his eyes as he uttered the words: " _please be mine, victor!_ "

"please, dr nikiforov," she breathed, looking into into victor's cerulean eyes with desperation and hope. "please save my yuuri."

and for the first time, victor had felt doubt, insecurity and lack of self-confidence. after he had finished his meal, the air outside was growing chilled, the concrete hard and ungiving beneath his leather shoes. he had always been confident in his ability to help his patients, and they have always significantly improved under his treatment, no matter of the severity of their illness. but the words of katsuki hiroko had ripped his confidence straight from him. he knew that katsuki yuuri was going to be hard to cure, if not impossible, but how are you supposed to tell a grieving mother, desperate on blind hope and constant grieving that her son was simply a case too hard to solve and his insanity impossible to remove?

the wind seemed to deliberately slap him in the face as he made his way across the pedestrian walk of the bridge. on the other side of the river, the institute stood tall and proud, a glowing white sprawling mass of buildings a few hundred meters away. it was perfect, too perfect. if only the people knew what went on inside...

a mass of warm air enveloped his face as he made his way through the condensation-covered glass doors. only october, and the air conditioning system was switched on to heater mode. the receptionist looked up expectantly from her computer as he made his way towards block a. her eyes gleamed hungrily as she took in his tall and strong figure, but victor didn't even notice. he simply pushed his way past the cell doors, never seeing her recurrent look of disappointment that always crossed her face whenever she was ignored by the handsome man.

the familiar cell door of katsuki yuuri was silent, like it was yesterday. too unnaturally quiet, however, this time. no sound, not even the sniffling made by the psychopath housed inside. pressing the id card from his pocket onto the rectangular scanner, victor opened the door to see a bloodbath.

smudges of red were smeared everywhere, across the white bleached sheets of the small cot in the corner, on the clean surface of the desk in the centre of the room. it stained the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the hammock that hung several feet up.

the pungent iron-like scent burned victor's nose as he walked in, still dazed from the sea of red in front of him. katsuki yuuri knelt in the corner opposite his cot, his hands coated in red, a large crimson gash on his head. it was a waterfall of blood from his head, the red collecting on the floor beside him and the folds of his shirt. victor could hear the sickening cracking noise his skull made when yuuri slammed it into the wall over and over and over and over. laughter erupted from the psychopath's throat, not the velvety, seductive chuckle that victor had witnessed the first day here, but each sound jarring, hard. unforgiving. with no remorse.

"yuuri!" victor shoved the key into the door, opening it and slamming it behind him. his fingers blossoned with red as he pulled the younger man away from the wall. his white jacket was coated with red already, from the steady stream of blood in yuuri's head.

"hello, victor." yuuri, bleeding and pained, grinned. he still somehow smiled through the pain, flashing his slightly bloodstained teeth. he made victor's name sound like a caress, something that rolled easily off the tongue. he made it sound beautiful, effortless, something to be admired. with a fleeting smile, the man passed out in victor's bloodstained arms, his mouth parted, struggling for breath. his pulse thumped weakly in his neck and his wrist. dying.

lifting his phone, his hand stained and shaking, victor called for the first aid medics, his voice uneven, shocked. afraid that man in front of him was gong to die. he feared for yuuri's death. he needed help, and victor will be there to give it. "medic, i need a first aid kit immediately in cell 5b, block a. bring along disinfectant, cotton wipes, a needle and thread and some bandages please, along with a syringe of sedative 4-c."

the wait seemed to last forever, his heart thumping in his chest, leaping into his throat. he felt like _he_ was the one with the gash in his head, heart about to fail, going to die. when the equipment arrived, he headed straight to work, cleaning, applying disinfectant, needle going in and out of the skin, stitching yuuri's head back together. he couldn't help but feel sorry for katsuki yuuri as he finally cleaned him up and injected the sedatives. victor watched him lying lifelessly on the stretcher as the medics took him away. as he was carried away, one single brown eye opened, the madness like fire behind it. with a smug smile, yuuri lifted up a trembling hand and waved, giggling lightly.

victor couldn't begin to imagine the jumbles of thoughts in the young man's head, the chaos, disorder. it was like comprehending the numbers of infinity, or how expansive space really was. it couldn't be done.

what in the world could have made such perfect and beautiful a man so _insane_?

 **A/N:**

 **Hi guys, sorry for not updating in so long! I had finished up my exams, but unfortunately, my parents decided to drag me to Europe, where I had no chance of updating since we were on the move the whole time and the Wi-Fi in the hotels were terrible. I'll try to make the updates more frequent since everything is normal now~ :P**


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